Setheneran
by milgrom
Summary: Fen'Harel & Falon'din meet in the land of waking dreams.


__Life and death are the twin faces of eternal existence. To surrender to either one is to resign oneself to obscurity. True power lies in the twilight realm between life and death. By seeking to explore and extend the mortal condition and form - even mortal life itself - knowledge of the world and its infinite complexity is extended. Let no one interfere with the pursuit of such research, for the end result will more than justify the necessary sacrifices along the path. Knowledge is power, and knowledge of life and death brings power over all beings, living and unliving.__

They were brothers, but not by blood. One was a true prince, but the other had been there before and would be after. Fen'Harel spawned of the long shadows and starlight. Falon'din the tidal wave of his Mother's pale moon. For a time they walked together, learned the many nooks and crannies hidden to their brethren. They named their discoveries in formless harmonies, truly, pale echoes of the Weave that made them whole.

The light of the heavens shone in their eyes now, met again in a place far, forgotten and between. The air shifts and its thick, colors are a whorl in the landscape, dusty stones moving, muttering, fascinated by the ancient feet upon them. He is unmoved by the familiar eyes set grimly on his own. The vengeful fires of the immortal were apparent. But the wolf's heart still beat whilst the child of the sun & moon could not claim as such.

"O' Child of Shadow," a sad lament. For their fates were bonded. "Who released you?" It can barely be called a question. The roads that lead to Blessed Realms had been forever shut, the wolf knew well. "You were not blind to all that has been wrought, I merely left you without a voice or hand to forestall it." An answer to a question yet to be asked, but the wolf had waited, expected long this day to come.

Each of them cursed Fen'Harel – every corner of the Veil he sundered echoed the memory of his betrayal. Eternity is cruel and kind to those of a mind to be prepared. He knew the words, the binding curse that held them. He hesitated to use it again, now so soon, for even though in anger he was glad to see someone who _remembered_.

 _ _Gold ran red, only shadows of madness remained in his memory. Fell songs rang over hillock and mountain, carrion birds heralded the Lady's passing and all magic fled anon. Curses, madness – the winds ceased, darkness held for nigh centuries before the Weave itself turned dark and silent.__

 _ _The pale queen is troubled he but cannot say why. The Void-cloaked daughter hates the pale Mother. And she, the first born, gives the Shadow a name and commands her siblings to do the same. The assassin steals upon the pale queen. The formless blade screams. The pale queen falls. Her city falls. Stones fall in the cavern to crush the soothsayer. The tree burns and thrashes in agony. Branches break, twist and grow together …__

 _"I thought it fitting I put her children at her side, so they might remember their betrayals too." It is veiled a threat, for the wolf knows what comes. "The bare ashes of Elvhenan have no need or will to suffer those that would use them for ill-begotten purpose." Indeed, ashes were all that remained of the People. The wolf wandered now without purpose, carrying the fragments of so many others._

To dust now, again such vain pride, thankless, silent mistress bade him to wait, to remain hopeful, yet vigilant. She could change Him, just as she had done before. Thrice he followed her, thrice he had watched her burn. First by the fires of the Sun. Second by the vengeful fires of Her love. Third by Men, wrought by ignorance wildly spread.

" _ _Ar'din nuvenin na'din.__ _"_ The wolf is tired, so ready to pass nigh unto sleep.

The wooden staff, old as he, clacked effortlessly and resounded as thunder upon the living stone. "Do you truly count yourself as blameless?" He was incredulous, forgotten magics emblazoned in his mind's eye. "What wars were wrought in _my_ name?" And there is much he remembers. "I cannot recall even one." There is much the shattered prince has yet to see.

"I have made mistakes." Honest, bold. "I have regret enough to flood the sea." His voice wavers, emotion radiated along the fraying Weave. "Our – **__**my**__** ****People still need me." His voice struck steady then, the long shadows stopped their wicked spread. Worn and weary, but a fire was but a thought to life.

"I espied the debased, unmourned charge you bore through the Veil, O' Falon'din." Her true form slain, _lifeless_ –

This is a holy place, where the trees breathe deep and stars bear witness and meticulously count the precarious moments hanging between those who leave much unsaid. Words like names held much power but long ages past out of memory saw Fen'Harel turn his to a mantle. It offered no peace or shelter, but it served as a reminder of _necessity_. Even now, as the hollow howls of his shadows cast long and far – they billowed and warned, waited with rapt attention for the first spark of battle.

The wolf smiled then, tricks in every sleeve, boot and waistband awaited the guide who could not longer guide himself. "You declare my hands unclean, and what of you? Culpability has its place here, does it not? Did you not serve your father well – __dirth ma__ ," he spit back mockingly. "What could I have done to stop you, child? Yours was not my purpose and – _No_ , it is pointless to return to such memories."

Heavy is the hand that rules, heavier still the heart that must endure consequence. "I do not expect you – or the others, should they wake – to understand what I deemed necessary." He recalled the vicious viscous black spreading over the land. He remembered the ashen taste in the wind, the trees bending and twisting – _dying_. Elvhenan that was once beautiful, Arlathan at its center beckoning and promising sweet rest. Spires that climbed past clouds and overlooked all. Her city died when she did.

A small laugh danced along his tongue – " _She_ who decried you, who mourned you, who troubled endlessly over the son she so loved and adored. _She_ who shed tears cut of crystal and begged for me to put an end to all that had been wrought? You know little and nothing, _lethallin_." His throat felt raw, even as his tone grew in size and shape. Grief, the echoes of madness clung to every word spoken. The world around them shifted, colors bled wrong and unsteady. The wolf held power here and only time spent would see if the Guide did as well.

"You recall her name, then, use it. Show her the respect you _owe_ her for your duplicity." Accusation flooded him, the wild living stones beneath his feet shook violently and cursed him in their ancient tongue. Fine cracks in the scene appeared, the void dyed red pushing, pulsing and threatening to drown them both. His hands splayed outward and nearly called out for whatever remained of the old magics, for the old power he would need if – _No_ , the wolf remembered all too soon, the key was lost and so any hope of binding Falon'din once more.

He lowered his hands, "I want," __her__ , the revelation stopped him for a bare moment. "There is nothing I want," Lies were bold, easy as they had always been. "The crush of time pushes ever forward. There is not to be a return of what once was, and there should not be." Not if it meant she would see him in such a fashion, cruel honesty portrayed in a frothing red maw. Autumn superseded the Moon and the wolf was struck dumb.

These thoughts he shut out, lest the Guide could see the desire painting longing colors in three mad eyes. "You speak the truth I have told myself. But – I did not act rashly then, _lethallin_ and I do not regret the part I played – One, I should add, you could have easily played yourself." _Solas_ had no need to be mourned. He did not deserve it. Fen'Harel too, had wandered outside of time, before even the first breath shuddered in Elgar'nan's chest. What but the promise of an end could be any sweeter?

"You – __we__ thought ourselves as gods when we were all bound to fate." Shadows that had swollen fit to burst receded and paled at the vision he conjured in his mind – the woman left in a place where none could touch her. She who made him forget – "There is nothing left, _ _lethallin__."


End file.
